


Illness

by courtsofdreamsandstars



Category: MAAS Sarah J. - Works, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Illnesses, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 05:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8131928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtsofdreamsandstars/pseuds/courtsofdreamsandstars
Summary: Rowan Whitethorn, Prince of Terrasen woke one morning to find his bed disturbingly empty.





	

Rowan Whitethorn, Prince of Terrasen woke one morning to find his bed disturbingly empty. He’d become accustomed to awakening each morning with the sheets thrown off, crumpled at the bottom of the bed as the pair of lithe, muscled legs attached to the woman sleeping next to him had kicked them away during the night. He was also used to waking up to her sprawled across his chest somehow, her hair in his face, filling his mornings with the warm, crackling-embers scent of her. This morning was different, however, as he awoke alone. He frowned to himself, peering around the room, wondering where Aelin had disappeared to so early. He stood slowly, stretching out his muscles and cracking his joints, pulling on the loose pair of pants he’d discarded last night and headed out of their chambers.

He could tell it was early because the castle was silent, he couldn’t even hear the sounds of the great hearths roaring in the kitchen as the cooks began to prepare for breakfast. Early dawn light was filtering in through the windows around him however up ahead he could see a halo of candlelight escaping under a door further up the corridor. Aelin’s study. He sighed, shaking his head, knowing what he’d find behind that door. She had been exhausted these past few months, working at all hours of the day, setting up trade agreements and treaties with surrounding kingdoms, working tirelessly to put Terrasen and its people in the best possible position. He crept as quietly as he could down the hallway and slipped in the door of his Queen’s office.

“Fireheart… What are you doing up so early?” He asked softly, leaning against the back of the door as he looked down at his Queen before him. She was hunched over her desk, papers strewn out around her as she was writing furiously. Her shoulders slumped when she heard his voice, knowing she’d been rumbled.   
“Damn you are your fae senses, I thought I’d been silent” She huffed, and something about her voice sounded different, scratchy and hoarse and stuffy. Rowan chuckled and said “It wasn’t the sound that woke me Aelin, I can never sleep without you beside me anymore, you should know that”  
Aelin turned in her chair to look at him, her beautiful warrior prince standing and looking at her with such love and concern across his usually steely face. When he saw her the look of concern only heightened, seeing her eyes and nose rimmed with red, skin pale and tired, looking positively rotten.  
“Oh Fireheart…” He said softly, stepping towards her, but she held her hands up and said “No don’t Rowan, I don’t want you getting sick…”  
“Aelin we share a bed, you sleep less than an inch away from me most nights, whatever you have I most likely already have it too” and he closed the gap between them, running a hand across her forehead to feel her temperature and she leaned into his cooling touch, like ice against the fire of her skin. “Why are you up so early when you’re so sick?”  
“Because I knew  _someone_ would confine me to the bed to be nursed and mollycoddled as soon as he found out I was ill, so I thought I could get up early and get some work done before you realised” she said, as defiant as always, although it was hard to take her seriously when her voice sounded so tired and ill.  
“I’m only overprotective because I worry about you Aelin, not just because I love you… You’re our Queen. I know you’ve been working yourself into the ground doing your job, but you can’t keep going like this, you can’t be a great Queen if you’re constantly run down and ill.”   
Her brow furrowed and she gave him a slight glare as she said “Well who else is going to organise all these law’s and treaties, make plans for state visits, keep another war from our doorstep. I’m just trying to do… to do… to…” she couldn’t finish her sentence before a tiny, pathetic sneeze escaped. It sounded like something that would come out of a tiny, fluffy kitten, not the lethal, feared Queen of Terrasen. She glared even more at Rowan when she saw the look on his face, he could almost hear her thoughts say  _You dare laugh, Whitethorn, and it’ll be the last thing you do._

Approximately 4 seconds later Rowan erupted into fits of laughter, the deep sound reverberating through the room and out, probably waking up half of the castle. Aelin glared at him once more, picking up an embroidered pillow from her chair and whacking the side of his head with it, not that it stopped him laughing. She snarled at him, her temper starting to rise, before she suddenly doubled over, her body wracked with painful, aching coughs. Rowan stopped laughing and move to wrap his arms around her gently as he softly said “Let’s get you to bed Fireheart” and she didn’t even try to fight him as he swept her up into his arms and carried her down the corridor to bed, ready to spend the next few hours resting.

For the rest of the day, whenever anyone was looking for the Prince they were directed to the Queen’s Study, where the Fae Warrior spent the day hunched over a desk, relieving the burden of work from his love’s shoulders.


End file.
